


Holding Out for a Hero

by Beachy



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, I REALLY tried to work in the canon lore but its so goddamn fucked, I have no idea how to tag, Light Angst, Mystery, i guess?, lil bit of spooky stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beachy/pseuds/Beachy
Summary: "Up where the mountains meet the heavens above, out where the lightning splits the seaI could swear there is someone, somewhere, watching me"
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Holding Out for a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> *meouch voice* this story goes out to the time I listened to 'holding out for a hero' by bonnie tyler on repeat until 5am!!

“I just feel like I’m built for something more!” Meouch stares at the shorter man pointedly from across the porch. 

“Like _we’re_ built for something more! Don’t you feel it too? Something is off, like something is missing...” Sung trails off, energy fading as he glances up from his fidgeting hands to Meouch’s form in front of him, unreadable. 

The feline lets out a deep sigh, wisps of warm breath like clouds against the winter air. He twirls the house keys in his hands. 

“What, man? So you just- you don’t wanna be in the band anymore? Is that what this is?” His gaze softens slightly, “If I could hand you some grand magical destiny, Sung, I would. If that’s what’d make you happy. But I can’t. None of us can give you that. I know shit has been hard for you recently, it’s been hard for all of us, but this is who we _are_.” 

Sung rolls his eyes from beneath the visor, hands folding impatiently. “This is what we’re built for! How can you not see it? And you’re the leader! The frontman, the head of this whole thing. We can’t do this without you-”

“I’m not just going to get up and leave dude. We’re a team,” Sung interrupts, hands thrown to his sides, “I- I need you guys with me on this.”

Meouch grimaces, a sudden wave of melancholy hitting him, and when he glances over at the other he unsurprisingly sees the faintest light glowing through thick winter garments. 

“Sung can you tone it down, you’re- doing the thing again,” he looks puzzled for a moment until he catches sight of the blue-ish glow as well, shaking his head slightly and taking a deep breath. 

“ _Shit._ Sorry man,” he grasps at the soft toque on his head aimlessly, where his cone would’ve sat if they hadn’t just been on a trip to the store, “it's hard to control without the cone, I’m sorry.”

The unfamiliar emotion subsides from Meouch’s chest, Sung watching him intently now to be sure it's gone. His eyes light up suddenly, “see _this_ is what im talking about dude. What _was_ that! That’s not normal. I’m clearly not normal- none of us are. Something’s not right. Something is wrong and we _need_ to figure it out now, before all of this gets even worse.”

The keys around Meouch’s clawed fingers spin faster, a grating metallic chorus scoring the rising argument. “But we can’t just follow you on your crazy dream quest Sung! I’m sorry. Whatever it is you’re feeling, I believe you. I really do, but what is there to do about it? What are you even looking for? We can’t just drop everything for some wild goose chase. Not now when everything is-” 

The keys fly out of his hands, landing on the untouched snow slowly building up on the porch around them. 

The door creaks open then, and Phobos steps into the doorway, still dressed in his pyjamas and shivering slightly against the sudden breeze. 

“Oh- you guys are back already! Did you lose the keys again, I thought we decided that we were keeping the spare in the mailbox-” His gaze follows the pair’s down to where the keys still lie, then back up at the two of them, taking in the tensed shoulders and bristled fur. 

Sung snaps out of it in time to watch his friend’s face fall slightly, and reaches down to pick up the groceries long forgotten on the floor with renewed strength. “It- just- everything is fine, Bos. Let’s go inside.”

Phobos gives a small nod, grabbing the nearest shopping bag and stepping quickly back inside to let the others through.

Sung, now looking very intently at his own shoes, walks briskly through the doorway and starts up the stairs to his bedroom before Meouch interrupts. 

“Since when is the kitchen up there?” Sung whips his head around, and then down at the plastic bags still in his grip. “Oh yeah right, I just-” he lets out a deep breath to himself, “I’ll go put these away.” 

Meouch watches through the doorway as he walks quickly back down the stairs and away into the kitchen out of sight, and sighs again.

He stands there for a while, feeling the cool air through his tangled mane, watching the snow fall softly down and begin to form a light film over the keys still lying there. 

After grabbing the last of the grocery bags, Meouch eventually leans over to pluck the snowy keys off the damp wood, metal clattering lightly in the quiet air. He stares briefly at the collection of colourful keychains dangling from the key ring, one an obnoxiously multicoloured plastic heart with the words ‘ _best friends forever’_ inscribed on both sides. 

Of course that one had been Sung’s idea. But hey, it's not like anyone was going to object to it, it was pretty damn endearing. 

There’s a sudden shadow in the corner of his vision. Looking up, he sees Phobos in the doorway again, shivering visibly. “It’s kinda cold” he says, now too glancing at the colourful charm, a slight fondness reaching his eyes.

“I’ll come inside now, sorry about that.” Shoving the keys in his coat pocket, Meouch follows the other into their shared home and shuts the door behind him. 

~

Sung was trying really hard to keep his mind off things. 

His coat and visor long since thrown across the floor in favour of his usual shorts and a clean-ish tank top. Music plays from a speaker sat on the corner of his desk, smooth eighties synth and a bright voice cheerfully singing about something or other as Sung hums softly along. 

He’s sitting cross-legged in his desk chair, his good eye squinting intensely at the mess of plastic and wiring that is his partially deconstructed cone piled in front of him, various tools trying and failing to pry open the innermost compartment. 

A soft shuffle from across the room startles him, just barely managing to catch the pieces of electronics that get flung towards the ground in his panic. 

He whips around to see Phobos leaning in the doorway, holding a bowl in his hands and chuckling softly, a light chirping noise that’s hard not to smile along with. 

“Christ- dude. I almost broke something, warn a guy next time.” Sung lets out a quick breath.

“I _did_ knock you know…” Phobos’ eyebrows raise in light concern, “Meouch wasn’t kidding, you are really out of it today.”

Sung scrunches his face at that, “what would he know? He’s the one who wasn’t listening to-”

he takes in a sharp breath, letting his muscles un-tense in the slow exhale, “just, nevermind I don’t wanna get into this again. Did you need something?”

Phobos glances down at the bowl in his hands again, then back up at Sung. “oh uh, Havve made soup. You never grabbed dinner, I figured you’d be hungry up here doing god knows what.”

Sung’s eyes light up at that, clutching his stomach instinctively as it growls loud enough for the both of them to hear. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I’m starving,” he peaks through the blinds of the window and out into the now pitch black night sky, “wow, it got late fast. Time flies, I guess”

Phobos brushes away a few spare wires from the desktop to make room for the bowl, his dark eyes scanning across the table trying to decipher what exactly the other had been up to, before landing on Sung again.

Sung meets his gaze, brow creased with worry, already anticipating what’s about to come.

“You said you didn’t want to talk about it, but-”

“I know, I know... just shut the door and sit down and we’ll talk.”

Phobos gives a small triumphant grin, sticking a leg out behind himself gracelessly to close the door the rest of the way and hopping onto the unmade bed adorned in a fittingly space-like quilt and plethora of pillows. 

Sung spins in his desk chair to face him again, closing his eyes momentarily in thought.

“So where do I start?”

~

Downstairs, Havve is lounging, limbs spread contently across the worn couch in their shared living area, flipping mindlessly through different channels on the TV. 

He settles on a rerun of some nature documentary, probably something he’s seen already given both Sung and Phobos’ affinity towards them. Something about the white noise helps, although he’s not quite sure why.

Finally, the noises all around him are dampened. The quiet plucking of bass strings a few walls away, the chatter of two other voices, a distant melody, the rustling of leaves outside in the harsh wind, even the ever present creaking of an old and worn-in home, all fade into the back of his mind. 

It’s peaceful, for a moment. But still Havve opens his eyes, sensing something amiss. The colours on the TV screen are off, slightly, like someone had momentarily passed a filter over it. He blinks again, and everything is fine.

The wind outside has picked up, howling sharply and rattling the windows around slightly. Havve can only hope this doesn’t mean they’ll end up buried under feet of snow tomorrow morning. 

The usually cozy interior of their living space suddenly feels cold, and uninviting. Eerie, almost.

Havve sighs, but it comes out a tinny, shallow sound. Lifting himself up off the couch, he just barely remembers to shut the TV off behind him before walking wearily up the stairs and to his own bedroom, turning the last lights out as he goes, without looking back. 

~

“-and it’s not just that Phibs, I _know_ that it’s not been the best month for any of us but I swear this is different. It’s like something is coming together in my head but, somehow that means everything else is falling apart.”

Phobos is sprawled out comfortably on the bed now, listening intently to the other man, his hands long since wandered over to a nearby keyboard to fidget with the knobs and buttons.

“I won't lie Sung, I can’t say I get what you mean, but I promise I’ll try. We all will. We’ll figure this out together, it might take some time but we will.”

Sung’s hands flail out from where he’d been clutching at the back of his desk chair, spinning himself slightly with the momentum. 

“But that’s just it! Why doesn’t anyone else get this? Phobos, you can’t possibly tell me that you’ve never _once_ wondered why we’re the only folks in this whole city, maybe even the whole _world,_ who have these abilities! Or these features?”, Sung gestures rapidly to the metal plating on his face and chest, then in a circle in Phobos’ direction.

“We have to hide ourselves away up in the middle of nowhere because we look like we’re straight out of a comic book!” 

Phobos looks down at the pink-tinged skin of his hand, wiggling his fingers, almost amused. “Sung that’s just how things are. I can’t answer that for you. Besides, how many years have we known each other? How old are you? Why is this only becoming an issue now?” Phobos smiled gently at him, trying to keep the conversation from spiraling into an argument like he’d just barely witnessed before.

“That is the scariest part of all of this, Bos. Something doesn’t add up, and I don’t know why I didn’t see it until now.” Sung’s head drops to rest in his hands, the exhaustion of a long day finally starting to hit him hard.

He looks up at Phobos with a pained expression. “Well if you don’t know anything, and I certainly don’t know anything, then we’re not going to get very far, are we? I’m tired, you clearly are too Sung,“ he pauses for a moment to yawn, “Let’s just put a pin in this for now. I promise we’ll come back to this and figure it out.”

He hoists himself off the warm bed with a jump, starting to walk towards the door when he steps on a stray piece of metal. He gestures his head down at it, “I forgot to ask, what _were_ you doing when I came in here?”

Sung straightens from where he was hunching in his chair, one hand gone to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Oh that, I uh- I was just giving that internal piece another crack. Had another slip up today with the… core,” he gestures down at his chest. 

Phobos hums in acknowledgement, “yeah, I felt it too, and I was on the _other_ side of the door. I swear that thing’s getting stronger” he chirps lightly to himself.

“Sorry again, about that. I know I’ve tried already but I thought if I could just get access to whatever’s making this thing work-” he kicks lightly at the outermost layer of the cone lying on the floor “-then maybe I can harness it better? Or make it into something more wearable, jeez. Or just… anything, you know?”

Phobos exhales softly, hand already on the door handle, “I know.” 

“Just don’t stay up too late, mkay? That surely won’t help the way you’re feeling.”

The door creaks open as he turns the knob. “Yeah I know, you’re probably right. Thanks Phibs” Sung smiled slightly, finally getting up from his chair and beginning to clean up his workspace a bit.

The door shifts fully shut, and a quiet “G’night Sung!” can be heard from the other side, footsteps moving away and down the hall.

“Goodnight, Phobos.” Sung replies, mostly to himself.

“Goodnight Havve. Goodnight Meouch.” He turns the desk lamp off once he’s done organizing, the only light now beaming in from the moon through his blinds and the galaxy of glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling. 

~

Sung’s eyes blink open slowly, taking in the still dark air around him.

He rolls over slightly on his pillow, craning his neck to get a better look at the clock on his bedside table. The dull red glow flickers slightly, it reads 3:27.

_Weird._

He scratches his head lazily, wracking his brain trying to remember if he’d just woken up from another nightmare. He squints his eyes and peers around the room, looking for anything that might’ve fallen over in the night and woken him, but everything seems in place.

**_Good moooorning, sunshineee_ ** **.**

Sung startles out of bed faster than he’s ever moved before, knees scraping against the rough carpeting as he falls in his panic.

For a moment he thought he’d imagined it, the voice like a dulled knife through his head, but a sharp pain in his chest, his core, tells him otherwise.

His vision strains, black spots popping in and out of view. He clutches his fingers through the short fibers of the carpet beneath him to steady himself before glancing down at his core.

The light is flickering and thrumming in a way he’s never seen before, at moments almost unbearably bright and burning hot in his chest.

“God, I think I’m dying” Sung slurs slightly, still brushing off the drowsiness of sleep. He climbs to his feet, taking slow and careful steps towards the door into the hall. He needs to get to his friends.

An ear piercing cackle resonates through his skull, causing Sung to clutch and claw at his temples in pain. He stumbles to sit down into his desk chair, still holding his head in his hands.

There’s a sudden pressure on his arm, and then his chest, near his core. His eyes widen in terror at two unnaturally washed out limbs grasping at him from out of the dark.

He opens his mouth to scream for someone, anyone, but another quickly wraps itself across his face, cutting him off before he gets the chance.

The limbs feel wrong in every sense of the word. They’re much too scrawny to be able to hold him so tightly, and seem to be void of all light and shadow, an empty grey as though someone had sapped every ounce of color from their forms. 

Sung sees something else move in the darkness in front of him.

Two bright, pupil-less white eyes, lacking any sort of definition, peer out from the darkness. Despite their blank gaze Sung can feel them smiling cruelly at him.

He goes to speak again despite the pressure on his chest and face.

“What are you doing, why is this happening?” It’s barely intelligible against the limbs holding him back, but the grating chuckle in his head lets him know that he was heard just the same.

**_Tsk tsk sssunshineee, all these yearsss in hiding and you ssstill haven’t figured ittt out?_ **

The limbs are getting heavier on top of him, piling on each other seemingly endlessly. The last rays of light from his chest are gone, and Sung is plunged into the pitch dark. 

**_Ssssomeone wasn’t using theeeir time wisely._ **

And then he’s gone, along with the eyes and the limbs and the grey, the slight rocking of the chair where Sung once sat the only indication of life in the still, quiet dark. 

~

Havve sits up in his bed with a start, a foreign but frantic terror pulsing through his entire being.

Sung is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in years and the first thing I've ever posted anywhere so... enjoy!  
> Feedback welcome and greatly appreciated.  
> The lovely art at the end done by @clarbabey on twitter <3


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